


Candy Apple Red with All the Accessories

by a_xmasmurder



Series: 221B's and Drabbles (Multi-Fandom) [10]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Cogs in the machine, Coming back online, Corvettes, Coulson loves his car, Coulson/Lola, Gen, my headcanon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-27
Updated: 2013-09-27
Packaged: 2017-12-27 18:09:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/982027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_xmasmurder/pseuds/a_xmasmurder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Coulson meets Lola.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Candy Apple Red with All the Accessories

**Author's Note:**

> One-shot, not sure if I'm gonna be writing in this verse yet or not.

The only other person in the conference room is Maria Hill, and she looks...stricken, Phil decides. Stricken, and a little relieved. No, change that - a lot relieved, as she comes over and envelops him in a tight hug that leaves him without a leg to stand on. Hugs aren’t something that Agent Hill _does_. He doesn’t ask why she decides to start hugging now, and he definitely doesn’t cock his head in a silent question either, lest he incur her righteous anger. It would be for the best.

“Welcome back, Agent Coulson.” Her voice is warm, and it cracks at the edges. He doesn’t look into that, either, even though that is also something that Agent Hill does not do. Actually, there isn’t a lot that she does do, now that he thinks about it. Overtrained. Well, they all were, weren’t they?

“It’s good to be back, Agent Hill.” He settles for blinking at her, only for a moment. Then the moment is gone, and he’s holding his hand out for his first assignment since his ‘death’ at the hands of Loki Laufeyson. With a small smirk, she hands the manila folder to him, and he takes a quick glance at it. He frowns, then looks back up at her. “You can’t be serious.”

“Director Fury sends his regards.”

He feels a laugh burble in his chest, but he doesn’t want to let it out just yet for the same reason he doesn’t ask questions about Hill’s grieving process. Hell hath no fury like a woman questioned or laughed at, especially in S.H.I.E.L.D.. He nods and accepts the assignment with a familiar warmth. If Fury wanted, Fury got. Coulson is only a cog in the machine that is the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division.

“So, who do I have for this?”

Maria gives him a slight shrug. “Carte blanche. You’ve got one day to do it, though.”

“One?” He remembers a glass of champagne and _“Phil? His first name is Agent.”_  “Alright. That’s doable. I’m going to need wheels, though.”

Now Maria is openly smiling, and Phil isn’t sure what happened while he was gone. Something happened, that’s for sure. “Right this way.”

  
  
  


It’s a quick elevator ride down to the underground parking area; enough time for Phil to get used to having work to do again, and to get used to Hill’s silent presence next to him. There are questions, questions that have answers, rolling in his mind. His main concern is whether or not he wants the answers to the questions. It takes a total of five seconds for him to decide that you know what, he really doesn’t want to know. At least, not yet. A flash behind his eyelids - pain, unbelievable pain, then shooting that bastard demigod through the wall, that had been fun, too bad he couldn’t save Thor - makes him open his eyes again. Or the ding of the car reaching its destination did it. He doesn’t examine it too closely. The doors slide open, and he strides out with only a dull ache in his chest. Phantom pain, he scolds himself. That’s all it is. Phantom pain. He follows Agent Hill past Rovers and Jeeps and Excursions and Explorers, all with the S.H.I.E.L.D. logo in grey relief on the matte black paint. He used to like these vehicles, mostly for the protection they provided, but he’s back from the dead with a mission in his hands. He wants something flashy. Bright. Attention-grabbing, noticeable... _oh, sweet Jesus alive._

They stop in front of a parking stall lit by the overhead strip lighting, and Phil has to admit that his jaw? It is very wide open. His tongue might be lolling out the side. Hell, he’s probably drooling. But making a fool out of himself is well worth it, because the beautiful car in front of him deserves the utter degradation of a man.

The ‘62 Corvette C1 gleams in the artificial white light. It has the two-tone paint scheme, the last one in its line to have such. Cherry red and white, whitewall tires, utterly untouched and pristine in its parking stall.

“I...figured you would like it, Coulson.” Maria is off to one side and two steps behind him, relaxed and happy.

“She’s beautiful. What engine?”

Here, Maria smiles again. “It started out with the stock carbureted 327 cubic inch V8 small block, 340 hp. We’ve made some...modifications.”

Phil moves forward and runs a light finger along the clean curves of the Corvette. “She’s perfect. What sort of mods?” He chuckles. “What did you do, make her fly?”

“Well...yeah.”

Phil makes it to the boat-tail rear before turning around and fixing Maria with a stare. “You _did?_ ”

“Same sort of tech as the Helicarrier.” She digs around in her hip pocket and finds a set of keys, which she throws at Phil. He catches the jangling metal easily, and moves forward to the door.

“Anything I should know about before getting in? Security measures, traps and the like?”

“Not that I’m aware of, Coulson. I know that all of the extra tech in that thing is modular, so you can remove and add what you wish.”

Phil looks down at the keys in his hand, and frowns. “Why would I remove anything?” He inserts the key, and starts the pretty girl up. With a sweet, smooth rumble, she purrs to life under his hands. He’s pretty sure he’s fallen in love. “Tell me she’s mine. Please. You wouldn’t show me a car that isn’t mine, would you?”

Maria smiles. “Of course it’s - she’s - yours.”

He runs his hands over the steering wheel, and the dash. “Lola.”

“I’m sorry?”

He looks up at Maria. “Her name. It’s Lola.” He’s suddenly embarrassed, and he smiles a little bit. “I...tend to name my cars. Establish a rapport. It’s…” He shrugs. “It’s nothing. I…it doesn’t matter.” He presses down on the accelerator to listen to the engine rev. “She sounds gorgeous. Mind if I take her for a spin around the block?”

“By all means, Coulson.” Hill steps away from the car - Lola - and waves him out. “Go play with your new toy. And don’t hesitate to go further than a block.” She smirks. “She can fly, you know.”

He sees the switches for the...Jet-assisted Take Off and Landing? How, exactly, did they manage this one? His smile grows in wattage, and he whips out of the stall and roars up the ramp, leaving Maria Hill behind.

He and Lola are going to have a wonderful relationship, he just knows it.

 


End file.
